


Galactic Moths

by bellap74



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: M/M, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellap74/pseuds/bellap74
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rory finds himself up close with a shirtless Doctor.</p>
<p>Kink Bingo prompt: exposure</p>
            </blockquote>





	Galactic Moths

“I was just-.” Rory stopped, gaping at the sight before him and felt himself wobble slightly. The Doctor was half naked, his chest exposed and perfectly, leanly bare. He seemed to shine in the glow of the console room and something in Rory's gut tightened, he looked almost vulnerable but perfectly moulded. He could be marble or enamelled bronze, such was the smoothness of his every curve and Rory swallowed deeply, “Oh.”

The Doctor peered at him, brow furrowing and the balled up shirt in his hand dropping to the floor, “Rory?”

“You - um,” Rory gestured to his own chest, “you haven't got – your shirt on.” He tried to remember to close his mouth this time, aware that he must look more foolish than ever, still somewhat convinced that the Doctor could read his mind. Suspicious that at some point he'd gone back in time and seen the things Rory had been when Amy wasn't around, the people he'd known - the men. "What's...?"

“What?” The Doctor offered badly feigned surprise and examined himself with exaggeration, “Damn! Blasted galatic moths again, must've got hungry.”

“Really?”

“No. I'm not sure what's up with the spacial distortion val-.” The Doctor stopped, peered at Rory again, “It got _wet_ , Rory, so I had to take it off. Is that a problem?”

“Your shirt?”

“Well yes, what else? Not the valve, if that gets wet we're all off to become hazlenuts or some such in the Cretaceous – do we think they had hazlenuts in the Cretaceous? No, definitely not - anyway...” The Doctor span and twisted a lever on the TARDIS console, closing a small cupboard in it just beside his thigh which dropped back down suddenly. He brought his knee up to jam it in place then turned back with a broad grin, “All fixed. Actually this shirt business is a damned nuisance too as we don't do wardrobe malfunctions as a race.” He looked at Rory's stunned face and motored on, “Time Lords. One outfit's enough for us – well me, but then I'm the-.”

“Last,” Rory said quietly.

“Yes.” The Doctor's tone was the same as whenever they touched on this subject and it only added to the atmosphere between them, neither moving and their eye contact brief.

 

Rory stepped forward slowly, looking at the Doctor's all too human skin, pale and clear in the fiery amber light, “I've never seen, I mean – she never drew you like this,” 

“Well, no, why would she? Raggedy Doctor and all that. She didn't draw me with a Fez either and _come on_ , the Fez was a great look.” The Doctor's energetic gabbling stalled as Rory reached him, eyes wide and avoiding his own, “Rory?”

“Your skin's – well, I never thought about it.”

“About what?” Confusion creased the Doctor's face and he drew in a sharp breath as Rory reached out and trailed his fingers slowly down the centre of his bare chest. “Um, right. Is this about me not having scales by any chance because I've met a lot of girls and boys and... _other,_ that _do_ expect scales and I've never had them. Disappointing really because I've even spent three Skautiskan life cycles on Skau and – _oh_!”

Rory felt a hot thrill charge through him as the Doctor fell silent, his breaths careful but audible as Rory placed his other hand on the Doctor's waist, trailing all of his fingers over the smooth abdomen and  slowly upwards. “I thought –.” Rory cleared his throat, “ I thought so many times about how much better you are than me in you know – basically every way.”

“That's not true.”

“It is, it has to be. You're the _Doctor_ ,” Rory nodded, “Doctor.”

Leaning back slightly and noting the ease with which Rory's hands followed, maintained contact with his skin, the Doctor turned his smile up to maximum. “ _Ro_ -ry! Rory Williams – Rory _Pond_ , don't be silly. You're brilliant you are. I mean-.”

“No,” Rory shook his head, interrupting firmly with a confidence borne of awe overtaking self-consciousness. “But I don't worry about that now, you're the Doctor and I could never compete, I don't want to.”

“Well that's good,” the Doctor swallowed and darted his eyes around the console room, aware that this touch upon his skin felt tempting in a way he barely bothered to remember these days. “I'm the Doctor and you're the nurse, nurse Rory and Amy is-.”

“Sleeping,” Rory answered quickly and stepped closer still, fingertips resting on the Doctor's bare shoulders. He wanted to touch, to hold, squeeze, take heat from the warm flesh, he dug his fingers in and felt the Doctor's body give way, sway with him. “We used to play this game, everyone does  - well, back on - on Earth. When we're kids, we play doctors and nurses.”

“ _Yes_ , yes, I think I've heard of that.” The Doctor raised his arms slightly and took a step back, the touch upon him was becoming less exploratory and more heavy now. He looked down and caught Rory's eyes, darkened and no longer unsure. “ _Ah_.”

 

“She drew you in just a shirt and it was open at the neck, here.” Rory drew his fingers down and the Doctor swallowed hard at the tender sweep of contact, “I always wondered what you were like underneath, this indestructible Doctor, the magic man.”

The Doctor shook his head slowly and brought a hand up to still Rory's stroking fingers, “I'm not a magic man, you know that.”

“No, but you are half naked and you are a man.”

“I'm a Time Lord.”

“And I'm a nurse and I can tell when a heart is racing,” Rory said calmly despite the rising tension throughout his body, heat spreading from the point where the Doctor still held him. “Two hearts racing.”

Smiling the Doctor slid his fingers to the pulse point on Rory's wrist, “Three hearts, I think.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you want Rory? This isn't-”

“Just to _see_ you,” Rory broke in, pulled his hand free and rested both back on the Doctor's naked skin, snaked one around to press flat against his spine and pull him closer. “That's all.”

 

The Doctor closed his eyes and smiled, let himself feel the warmth and live the sensation, “Good,” he nodded and let his head fall as Rory pressed in against him. Human fingers carried the most innocent heat of any people he'd encountered, they drew trails upon him that he knew certain races would be able to read for millinenia. He had these marks upon him from so many and yet here was Rory, never-to-be-underestimated Rory, painting the skin he rarely exposed with what the Doctor understood to be need, and he welcomed it. Welcomed new prints to mingle with old, twist around the trails of sensuality left by Jack, the healing  tenderness of Donna's friendship and - _no_ , he wouldn't think of others and never River; this was Rory and he must _never_ think of River's soothing touch.

Rory moved as if this were familiar, eyes closed now and hands still. He held the Doctor carefully but firmly and moved his head along the angles of his shoulder, trailed his mouth across his collar bone to the base of his throat and stopped. “I lied,” he whispered and felt a hand tangle in the back of his hair, “it's not enough.”

“I tend to find it never is,” the sadness in the Doctor's tone was lost to Rory's ears, nothing but his own pulse filling them as he pressed his lips against the soft neck. The kiss felt natural but still not enough, he kissed slowly across the Doctor's chest then mouthed his way back over the smoothest, clearest skin he'd seen. It tasted different from other skin, not salty or musky with sweat and Rory noted that it had a sheen undisturbed by pores or goosebumps, he tasted of ozone and something new. The Doctor felt thinner and yet stronger, his blood was pumping twice as fast and the sensory portrait made Rory weak.

“I never knew – beneath your shirt,” he stopped and looked up into the Doctor's eyes. “She never drew you like this.”

“So you keep saying, and thank goodness too, she was a child remember?” The Doctor smiled lopsidedly and ran his hand through Rory's hair again, studying his eyes. He opened his mouth slightly as Rory leant forward and placed a cautious kiss on his lips. “And she never knew you were the one, Rory Pond, did she?” Rory kissed him again and the Doctor licked his lips appraisingly, “So how was anyone else supposed to, eh?”

Rory frowned in confusion, “What?”

“Nothing.” The Doctor shook his head and  stepped back, turned quickly to grab his shirt and then pointed into the depths of the TARDIS, “Come on, I need to find a duplicate of this shirt which won't be easy because it's Egyptian cotton and those galatic moths really do adore the stuff.”

 

Rory paused, confused by the sudden switch but the Doctor took his hand and pulled him along with a smile, one that told him nothing bad had happened. “They're not real are they?” Rory asked knowingly as they climbed metal steps, “Galatic moths, I mean?”

“No, no they aren't.” the Doctor conceded, “But they sound a whole lot better than Amy catching us doing _this_. I mean she might not eat our clothing but we'll both be -.”

“Killed.”

The Doctor nodded, “Yes and horribly too I should imagine – you of course , not me. I'm the Doctor.”

Rory snorted, eyes roaming the Doctor's bare back, “I'm pretty sure she'd kill you too, actually.”

“Ye-es well,” the Doctor span round and reached out to stroke his palm across Rory's cheek, thumb sliding across his lips. “I've never had to regenerate after cuckolding a mad Scot and I don't intend to start now.”

“Right.”

“Though I did come close once with King Malcolm – the first one, never met the second. Not my fault at all either, very suspicious mother and a wife whose life was one long migraine. Still, never underestimate a ginger Rory and better safe than sorry, yes?”

“Yeah,” Rory nodded and the Doctor grinned, eyed him carefully before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead then heading off waving his shirt in the air like a flag of battle.

“Come on, if the galactic moths attack I shall need a nurse to tenderly tend my wounds!”


End file.
